The last day of practice ends with a private meeting between just the six of us. Dr. Conrad and Dr. McCoy want to go over the last details of how this mad experiment is going to work. Dr. Conrad explains that he and Dr. McCoy will set the target date and engage the time travel, at which point we will vanish before them.
Each of us will receive an everyday item, a talisman, holding the key to our return. Sarah’s is a brooch, mine is a necklace shaped like a locket, while Ben and Eric have pocket watches. Each piece contains a small button that, when we press it, will return us to Dr. Conrad’s private lab. We are told that even though days will pass for us, upon our return, it will feel like no time has passed at all in the present.
Dr. McCoy brings out four large trunks, part of our many first-class suitcases. Engraved on the trunks are our initials. Dr. McCoy explains they are for any artifacts that we stow while onboard. Any information we collect will go into these trunks. We will each receive items with hidden cameras inside that we can tap to take photos. Simple, inconspicuous everyday items like walking sticks or eyeglasses. We are all given a small box with a biometric lock on it; mine looks like a small music box. He explains we may also pack any personal items to go with us, a comfort of home perhaps.
“Listen carefully, though," Dr. Conrad interjects. “Don’t let these trunks leave your stateroom. When you are ready to come back, make sure that you are with your trunk and grab it. Try to stay on the ship as long as possible, but if you cannot get back to your stateroom, just press the button and go. Your safety is more important than any artifact you could bring back. Whatever you are holding onto will come back with you when you press the button, so be careful.”
Ben leans forward with a mischievous smile. “What if you grab the ship? Will that cause it not to sink?” He’s half joking but genuinely curious. I find the question idiotic, but it breaks the tension around this nonsensical project. None of us fully understands how this all works and what awaits us.
“We don’t know for certain, but it’s imperative that you don’t do that. When we tested it out, I held that day's newspaper and a Big Mac, both of which came back with me unscathed. We are assuming it will work for the trunks too, though we haven’t tried something of their size. But obviously, no, do not just grab the ship. It could change the entire course of history. It could change future world events. The sheer amount of people who would not exist anymore because of their ancestors' changed life trajectory is unfathomable. You cannot tell anyone who you are or what will happen. Please remember, you are there to witness, not change.”
After a few parting reminders of last-minute studying, we are dismissed until our departure tomorrow morning. Ben is staying at my place tonight, so we can pack whatever belongings we choose to take with us. I honestly think neither of us wants to spend the night alone, especially not knowing what is ahead. What if this doesn’t work, and this is my last night in the world? I’d like to spend it here, at home, with my best friend. But what if it works? There’s no way this experience won’t change me.
Chapter Seven
Blame Brett by The Beaches
Ben and I arrive back at my house. Dr. Conrad sent all of us home in a car service he hired. We’ve been told the same cars will collect us tomorrow morning as well.
Ben and I hardly spoke on the drive, both of us likely trying to sort out the thoughts that are jumbled in our heads.
Ben sits down at the kitchen island. I get pots and pans out to cook us dinner, but I lose myself in my thoughts and zone out as I rummage through the cupboard for ingredients.
Ben snaps his fingers to get my attention. “Hey, Ali. Where’s your head at right now?”
I put down the box of pasta in my hand and lean over the counter. “I hardly know. I mean, can you believe this? This time tomorrow we’ll be onboard the Titanic in 1912. Or it won’t work and we’ll be dust. It’s all happening so fast. I mean, Christ. What the hell were we thinking?” I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around something so ridiculous. The notion of time travel is still utterly insane, and it feels like the last month of practice has flown by in an instant.
“Hmm.” Ben ponders for a moment, shifting his eyes back and forth. “I think I know what we need right now.”
I know what he’s implying. “Seriously? Now?” I can’t believe he thinks this is the right time for this.
Ben stands up and pulls his sweater over his head, leaving himself in just his shirt and jeans. “It works every time. I think this situation calls for it. Pick a song, Al. We’ve gotta dance it out.” He steps backward into the living room, playfully beckoning me to follow. “Come on, Al. You know I’m right. Dance with me.”
This has been our go-to for stressful situations or decisions. And I will admit that somehow, the invigoration of dancing like fools around the room gives us some sort of mental clarity.
I walk toward him, connecting my phone to the Bluetooth speaker in the living room on the coffee table. I have playlists for any mood or activity one could think of, but I move down to the one titledA+B’s Life is Chaos Dance Playlist. “Hmmm.” I tilt my head back and forth as I scroll through the options.
I tap on “Blame Brett” by The Beaches and swipe the volume up.
I let my body loosen up and start swaying and nodding my head. By the time the song hits the first chorus, Ben and I are jumping up and down with our hands in the air, while poorly singing the lyrics with our full chests. We may look ridiculous, but Ben is right. This always works.
The song ends and Ben and I collapse onto opposite couches, exhausted but giggling. For a moment, all I feel is sheer exhilaration. No nerves or trepidation, just a feeling of calm. Ben was right. I needed to dance it out. We’re committed to the project and whatever happens, we just have to let the chips fall as they may. I’m not used to relinquishing control, but maybe it’ll do me some good to just jump in fearlessly for once. I’ve been so afraid of taking a risk. I’ve spent my life playing it safe. Now is the time to be bold, to be brave.
I get up from the couch and stride confidently back into the kitchen, picking up dinner preparation where I left off; however, this time with much more awareness and concentration.
Ben sits at my kitchen counter impatiently staring down the carbonara I just made for us while I open a bottle of Pinot Noir. Carbonara is Ben’s favorite dish. I watched a lot of cooking shows growing up and taught myself to cook so I could make Dad and I dinner every night. It’s carried over to adulthood, but now I just enjoy doing it, and I think I’ve gotten pretty good at it. Aside from the companionship, I think the biggest reason Ben likes to stay here is the food. I thought a home-cooked meal for the two of us before this crazy ride would be just what we needed. Something normal in this long line of uncertainty. I put his glass down in front of him and take the seat across from him.
“Up for some last-minute studying?”
“Oh, God. Not more of your color-coded flashcards.”
He mocks my system of organized flashcards. They may be color-coded and overly detailed, but they’ve worked. I’ve used them to study with Ben on topics ranging from current events in 1912 to popularly used words or slang in conversation.
“Not this time, Ben. I came up with a little something different.”
I get up and walk over to the closet in the living room where I keep board games, candles, and extra blankets. Sitting on the middle shelf is one of my childhood board games, Guess Who. I spent entirely too much time replacing the names and photographs that came with the game with notable passengers and crew members on the Titanic.
I pull it out and hold up the box for Ben to see.
